Dr Darry
by atyler4474
Summary: Darry Curtis tends to his younger brothers' illnesses and mishaps.


Dr. Darry

(This story could apply to the 21st century-or several eras; in terms of the time of year it can be classed as late April or early May and the 1st spring after the fateful autumn in the original novel.

The Soc, in the meantime, have developed the sense to stay out of the neighborhood where the Curtis brothers live)

Ponyboy lies in bed, laid up with paleface bronchitis. He smiles weakly as he watches the gold beams of dust floating in the sunshine streaming through the window on a weekend morning. He recalls telling Soda how when boredom gets him down, especially if he's stuck inside the house, he can alleviate it by entertaining himself with pleasant daydreams. Doing this also helps him soften any feelings of pain or discomfort. Once, he even mentioned this to Darry. In response, Soda and Darry also tried using this technique for mollifying boredom or heaviness, but they both also stated that they were not as good at inventing stories, scenes and characters as Ponyboy is. Darry also informed Ponyboy not to overdo, as it could interfere with chores and schoolwork. Ponyboy has attempted not to overdo, but he also said how it lessened his chances for having the severe nightmares he used to have. Soda and Darry are greatly relieved Ponyboy can now sleep better. At this moment, Ponyboy is envisioning a field of giant golden flowers and dancing angels, when Darry comes in to take his temperature. Once done, he looks at the thermometer closely.

"Down from 102, but still 100, therefore, Dr. Darry says you need more bed rest and clear fluid if you want to get well."

Ponyboy nods, and Darry puts a clean rag on Ponyboy's forehead and strokes his hair.

Ponyboy grins slightly again, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Darry quietly walks out of the bedroom and into the living room, where Darry and Ponyboy's brother Sodapop is doing his stretches before going out for a morning jog. Dressed in light blue sweat pants, he sits on the floor with his legs at a near 180 degree angle, touching his toes with his hands.

"Hey, Darry!" he calls out.

"Shh-Don't wake Ponyboy."

"Sorry."

"You're good-I can't spread my legs that far, nor touch my toes in a sitting position."

"Thanks." Soda smiles up at his older brother, who has now settled himself into a chair, reading a portion of Nicholas Nickleby. Darry is developing a greater appreciation for fiction and for lifestyles outside his neighborhood, though he rarely has the opportunity for it, what with having to support and raise his younger brothers. Soda does work full time at a gas station, but he is also a high school dropout. Once Darry has saved up enough money, his plan is to eventually persuade Soda to get his GED, to get Ponyboy a college education, and finally for the 3 of them to cross the middle class line and stay on the other side of it.

Now Soda is not the type to make plans. Nor does he read books. He was never able to truly master the 3 Rs anyway. Even when looking at car and horse magazines, he will mostly just look at the pictures, though neither he nor Darry can draw with great talent like Ponyboy can. Yet, happy-go-lucky character that Soda is, he typically wakes up blessed to see a new day, especially one with sunny skies on a rare day off like he and Darry are having. At this point, he gets up with a cheerful "See ya" to Darry and exits the house. Once outside, he bounds through the neighborhood streets, exhilarated to be in motion and out in the brilliant sunshine. His eyes sparkle as they do when he laughs or shows off and clowns around for his brothers and buddies. Running with reckless abandon, he doesn't see the

broken-up and uneven portion of sidewalk glaring in front of him.

"Look out!" cautions his unseen guardian angel.

Too late. His toe strikes the jagged surface, and it sends him crashing and sprawling into the cement, badly scraping his knees and roughing up the palms of his hands.

"Uh oh, I tried to warn you," his guardian angel says.

Soda's once dancing eyes well with tears, which he wipes with his sleeve as he slowly gets back up, trying to make it look like he's wiping sweat off his brow.

A short while later, Darry hears Soda re-enter the Curtis house.

Looking up from his novel, his sees his "little" brother's injured knees, filthy with dirt and gravel, his ripped sweat pants and his tear-streaked face.

"Soda," he exclaims, "Whatever have you done to yourself?"

"I tripped and fell," Soda answers, swallowing hard.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Placing his arm around him, Darry leads his younger brother into the bathroom, washing out the wounds, which Soda tolerates-until Darry has to rub in iodine.

Soda, almost screaming, tries to get away.

"Soda. Soda." Darry gently but firmly lays his hands on his brother's shoulders.

"You don't want to get an infection."

Meanwhile, Ponyboy slowly awakens to the sounds of the voices and remembers how when he felt sad or hurt Soda would always do things to make him laugh, lifting his spirits.

Ponyboy, reflecting on how one good turn should deserve another, proceeds to sing from the bedroom:

"Oh call on Dr. Darry when you have a pain. Discomfort and suffering better run for cover when Dr. Darry strikes again."

Soda, upon hearing that, stops sniffling and gradually begins to grin.

Darry cracks a smile too. Once he gets Soda's abrasions treated and bandaged, Soda hugs him in gratitude. Darry pats his shoulder. "Would you like some chocolate cake?"

"Sure," Soda responds, and beams.


End file.
